


Patterns of the Future

by Maradon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maradon/pseuds/Maradon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Faramir would have gone to Rivendell instead of Boromir. How would the story changes, what would happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patterns of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> I have written this story for four years, it has never left me alone. I have posted 16 chapters of it on FF.net and now decided to post it here. I will update it about in every couple of days until I have reached to the 16 chapter and then I will update as soon as I have the next chapter ready. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it, they all belong to J. R. R Tolkine. Though I wouldn't have anything against it, if I owned Aragorn, Faramir or Legolas.
> 
> Read and enjoy

He had done it, finally after so many years. Some would have said that he had run away from home, but no, he was thirty and six winter's old and left home to save his brother's life. He knew that he could never come home again while his father was alive. He shall be doomed if he would return. Main reason was because he was disobeying his father wishes and orders. Yes, he would never walk into Minas Tirith when his father was yet to be the Steward of Gondor.

Three weeks ago he had seen a dream about Halflings, broken swords and Imladris. He had told about it to Boromir, his trusted and beloved brother. Few nights later Boromir had also seen that dream. It crossed Faramir's mind that Boromir had never seen predicting dreams. So he must have seen the dream because of Faramir had seen it first. That actually didn't really matter; most important was the subject itself. They had to do something.

They went to their father who told them that Imladris was Rivendell, the home of Elves. Faramir wanted to go, but Boromir had decided that the quest was too dangerous and he should go instead. Their father had agreed, but not because he thought it to be too dangerous but because he knew that Faramir was the student of Mithrandir. His father didn't trust that wizard.

Faramir had agreed. He had been disappointed but respected his fathers wish.

Two nights ago Faramir saw a dream of Boromir's death. It had been so real. He had stood there watching his brother dying with three arrows in his body and he could not do anything about it. He had told about the dream to Boromir, but his older brother didn't listen, laughing that he was invincible and was still going.

So Faramir had decided. To save his brother he had to risk his life, leave his home forever. So the night before Boromir was leaving Faramir wrote him a letter that he had seen the dream again. He just couldn't let his brother die, without him doing anything to prevent it. He told him that he was going to Rivendell instead. If their father shall ask, it was Boromir who had seen the dream, not his little brother. Their father would believe Boromir explanations more and would be contented that his favourite son would live.

Faramir knew even after Boromir's explanation that his father won't be happy that it was his younger son, the pupil of wizard who went to seek the answer. Faramir didn't want to leave, knowing that he won't see his brother and city again. No, he will see his brother again. He'll find a way to see his brother and deliver him the news from Lord Elrond. He will find a way to save his city and Boromir whatever it takes.

Faramir sneaked out of Minas Tirith under the shadows of moon. He took with him only his trusted steed Menenor, who he himself had raised and trained since Menenor was born. And also his sword Larsian, what Mithrandir had given eleven years ago. Mithrandir had taught him for fifteen years and in the end of their teacher-student relationship had given him the Larsian. The sword had protected him against many dangers and had saved his life for countless times. A year later Mithrandir had told him what the words on Larsian meant. They were written in Quenya and said: I'm Larsian, I protect and serve the one who is loyal. 

He didn't take anything else, he didn't see the point. He left his life behind so there was no point taking something from that life with him, except his horse, sword and arrows and bow on his back. He had always been a better marksman than a fighter.

And so Faramir was on his way, he could see last climbs of Minas Tirith, how the rising sun gilded over the white city. He looked for the one last time to imprint the image to his mind forever, the beautiful city he could never return to.

It was three months since he had left Minas Tirith. He had travelled along the roads that were forgotten. He almost lost Menenor while crossing the Greyflood at the ruined city of Tharbad where the bridge was broken. Faramir's horse had injured his left back foot and Faramir didn't want to leave him. The horse was the only friendly being he had in his life left. So that's why it had taken Faramir so long to reach to Rivendell.

Now finally he saw the forests of Rivendell, they were exactly like Mithrandir had described. The forest was beautiful, magnificent and even from distance he could feel safety and peace from it. He understood why it was called the last Homely house. He felt safe, like he hadn't felt for years. At home he always feared what would happen if he disappoints his father. He led Menenor towards the woods. It was quiet afternoon, the best time of the day and Faramir was happy.

"Halt!" Faramir found an arrow aiming at his face. His way blocked a tall elf, over six foot tall with golden hair, "Who goes there and what business to you have in Imladris."

"I'm Faramir son of Denethor from Gondor and a friend of Mithrandir. I came to seek Lord Elrond council."

"How do I know that you're not lying?" the elf asked and at the same time lowered his bow.

"But how otherwise I would know that you are Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin, chief of the House of the Golden Flower, the Balrog slayer; the adviser of Lord Elrond and the defence chief of Rivendell."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrow, but lowered his bow. "In that case, welcome to Imladris. Come, I'll show you the way to the last Homely house."

They walked in silence for some time. Faramir was pleased they did, he could look and enjoy beauty and peace of Rivendell. At the same time when thinking those thoughts, he felt Glorfindel's eyes on him. He knew soon the question shall come. Glorfindel may be a patience elf, but not enough to hold the question until Rivendell.

He didn't have to wait long: "Why are you guiding your horse, I know it's not from the respect towards me?"

"He's injured," Faramir explained, "I almost lost him on the bridge of Tharbad, when it collapsed under us. I couldn't leave him behind to die. He has been my constant companion for these past five years. I have trusted my life to him and that means he should trust his life to me. Rohirrim always say: 'When you trust your horse, you're safe to ride, when your horse trusts you, there isn't a place he wouldn't ride with you."

"The Horse lords have always been knowledgeable about these things. I know how you feel, I would never leave my horse behind either." They kept on walking, sometimes talking, sometimes enjoying the silence. Half an hour before they reached to the house, Glorfindel asked a question that surprised Faramir. "Would you mind if I sing?"

"No, of course not, sing master elf." Faramir had always wanted to hear elvish songs. So next half an hour Faramir spent his time enjoying cheerful wandering songs. Glorfindel sometimes translated them to him, but most of the time Faramir tried to understand them on his own, Mithrandir had taught him a little bit of elvish tongue. When they reached to the house Faramir's eyes widened, the home of Lord Elrond was beautiful, elven workmanship was magnificent. Minas Tirith was one of the beautiful sights he had ever seen and Rivendell was an equal match to it.

In front of the house stood a tall elf. He was few centimetres shorter than Glorfindel, with dark hair and with a frown on his face.

When Faramir and Glorfinder reached him he raised an eyebrow, "Glorfindel, are you planning to scare away all our guests, your singing is as bad as a Balrog's breath."

Faramir could see a mischief smile forming on Glorfindel's face, "A Balrog's breath? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," the elf rolled his eyes; Faramir didn't know that elves also do that.

"You're already to full of yourself. Who is your companion, who had to put up with your singing?"

"This is Lord Faramir son of Denethor, from Gondor. He seeks Lord Elrond council."

"Welcome to Imladris Lord Faramir. I'm Erestor, seneschal of Imladris and advisor of Lord Elrond. Your room is already waiting for you."

"Thank you, Lord Erestor, but first I should see to my horse."

"Don't fret about your horse, Lord Faramir. Glorfindel can take care of him." Faramir looked at Glorfindel who had an eager face hearing that he could take care of such magnificent animal. If Faramir didn't know who the elf was, he would have though him to be a young elf who had just passed his elfling years. But it was Menenor who had a problem with the plan. He nudged Faramir's shoulder and whined with discontent.

Faramir scratched him behind his ear; right from the spot Menenor liked it. "Don't worry, my friend, believe me Lord Glorfindel will take good care of you. I think he will be at it even better than me. Nothing will happen, I will be close, don't worry." That was reassurance what Menenor needed and he followed Glorfindel.

Erestor showed Faramir to his room, "Your bath is ready; when you're finished I'll lead you to Lord Elrond."

"Thank you, Lord Erestor, I'm very grateful."

"It's the same respect we show to our other guests. In this house there is no need to wear a weapon, so you can leave them here." Faramir bowed in acknowledgement.

Hot water felt so good. Faramir could feel every sore muscle in his body, the life felt good after so long time. Finally he could scrub of all the dirt from the travel.

Just when he had finished dressing Lord Erestor stepped in again; "Follow me, Lord Elrond is waiting for you."

Erestor guided him through the house. It looked as magnificent from the inside as outside. Erestor showed him to room with big open windows. There stood an elf, he looked young but his face showed years of wisdom.

"Lord Faramir from the house of Hurin," Erestor declared and stepped out of the room.

"Welcome to Imladris, Lord Faramir. I'm Lord Elrond."

"It's good to be here finally."

"Faramir, it is good to see you again," Came a voice from the corner of the room. Faramir turned there, "Mithrandir, I hoped I'll see you here."

Gandalf threw his favourite Denethor son to a hug, a human gesture. Who would have seen it would say that Gandalf had spent to many time with men and hobbits. "It is good to see you, but I'm surprised, I would have thought that Denethor would send Boromir to a quest of advice."

"So was decided, Boromir was the one who was suppose to come, but two days before his departure I saw a dream of his death. So the night before his departure, I left him a letter and sneaked out of Minas Tirith."

"But that means you went against your father orders."

"Yes, I can't return to Minas Tirith until he's alive or it will cost me my life." There was a long silence after that sentence. Elrond and Gandalf had their own suspicions about Denethor, but they didn't share those right know with his youngest son.

Elrond turned to his guest, "What is the advice you came to seek from me, Lord Faramir?" Faramir told them about his dream, about the fears and what his father thought about it.

"Well, Lord Faramir you have a perfect timing. Because tomorrow I'm holding a council, where are representatives of all the free people of the Middle-Earth. There will you find all the answers you need."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond." Faramir rose from the chair he sat.

"There is no need for gratitude, Lord Faramir, I am always willing to give a helping hand. The time is getting late and you must be tired and wish for a comfortable bed to sleep in."

"Yes, it's a one thing I have missed."

"Mithrandir told me that you love reading. My library is always open to you; Lord Erestor will show you where it is."

"Thank you again, Lord Elrond, I appreciate it."

He bowed and left two of the wisest in the Middle-Earth. Before he was out of ear shot he could hear their conversation.

"His coming here has set in motion a new future."

"Is it good or bad?"

"I don't know yet, some parts of the patterns of the future are changing. They are still shadowed and some patterns are yet not weaved, so I don't see the end yet. But the things I have seen, tell me that the hope is growing. The men aren't as weak as I thought."

                                                                                                                ~PotF~

It had been three hours since Faramir had gone to bed, but the sleep hadn't found him. Maybe it was the adrenaline what hadn't left his body yet, or maybe he was use to cold hard ground, not the bed. He knew only one thing that could help him to get some sleep.

 He dressed and went to search the library. He could only imagine how much knowledge was hidden in the books of Lord Elrond. Rivendell was quiet and peaceful at night. Faramir had thought he wouldn't find that kind of peace anywhere after his mothers' death. He wished to stay in Rivendell forever.

 He stopped. This wasn't the library; he had taken a wrong turn somewhere. In front of him stood a woman's statue that held a tray, there were pieces of sword on it. Faramir could see something from corner of his eye. He turned and saw mural of Isildur, who was ready to cut of Saurons finger with his fathers sword.

 "So this is the sword that was broken, from my dream. Elendil's sword Narsil, how stupid I can be that I didn't figure it out," He stepped respectfully towards it, "You should be forged again and rest in the hands of a king. He should come and reclaim the throne and bring glory and happiness back to Gondor. But my father would never let it happen." He stepped back and then saw a man sitting on a bench few meters away and reading a book. Faramir was taken aback, he felt like he had seen that man before, like they had met. That man was so familiar to him.

He shook his head, no it couldn't be, he had never met that man, but something, something he could not place was so familiar. When he noticed the other man looking at him, he bowed in respect, something told him to do it, then looked at the man's eyes and turned around and walked away to search the library. 


End file.
